Saving Severus Snape
by hot4preacher
Summary: Snape deserves a better death than given to him in DH.  Hermione thinks he deserves a better life too and helps him find it.  Unexpected friendships, romance and redemption for all.  Ch 5 edited and reposted. Rated M for adult language and sexual content
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Snape deserves a better death than given to him in DH. Hermione thinks he deserves a better life too and helps him find it. Unexpected friendships, romance and redemption for all. Rated M for adult language and sexual content.

"Take them", he croaked, his breath gurgling through the torn flesh of his throat. Harry quickly retrieved a vial from Hermione's shaking hand and began collecting the tears that held his final thoughts. He stared at the boy, the Chosen One, the embodiment of his life's pain, now crouching at his side and remembered a lifetime of failure and regret, of desperation and longing, of friendship, duty and betrayal.

Soon Harry's face was replaced by darkness. His breath slowed and his heart drummed a sad death march in his ears. Blood hummed through him like the wind through the old oak tree at the riverside where he once read as a child. His heart skipped like the day he first saw her there; a freak like himself, but more perfect than he. Eventually his body ran cold like the day she was sorted to Gryffindor, his fingers numb like the day he saw Potter kissing her, and his body heavy and lifeless like hers that Halloween so many years ago.

Through the blackness his green eyes… _her_ green eyes stared back at him. He stirred and tried to speak.

"Shhhh my old friend_," _a feminine voice soothed.

He tried to move, to discover the source of this strange comfort. But his body, now rigid, would not respond. His heartbeat had become weak and distant_. _

"Relax, Sev and walk with me for a while," she said.

"Lily?"

Green eyes beamed and a soft familiar face formed from the mist behind them. She smiled and touched his face tenderly. He made to reach for her and felt as if he was being stretched, drawn forward and up. He looked around and then down. He found himself standing outside his crumpled and bloodied body. The shack where it lay was now deserted.

"_I must be dead,_" he thought; defeated, staring at the sprawling pool of blood under his corporeal head. He had expected Voldemort's betrayal. Almost welcoming it after so many years of suffering under the strain of a double life. But part of him had hoped to survive. Not only so that he might carry out Dumbledore's last task and see to Potter's success. But to watch Voldemort's contorted face upon discovery that he, Severus Snape, the one who had once begged the Dark Lord to spare his love, would at long last have his revenge. To be downed by the reptile was... disappointing. "I failed you, Lily," he murmured.

"No, Sev. You've endured bravely. I could not have asked for more."

"If I'm dead, then he is on his own." said Severus shaking his head in doubt.

"Have faith Severus," offered Lily turning towards his disembodied self, reaching her arms to him. "He is no longer a little boy. He knows his path."

"How can you be so certain?"

She smiled broadly and replied, "Because he's had good teachers. The best, really." She turned and grabbed both of his hands and held them in hers. Waiting for his ebony eyes to fall into hers, she said, "I am eternally grateful for all your service to him."

"To you, Lily," he corrected. "It was always for you."

"You really loved me didn't you?" she said with a gentle laugh as she turned to walk along side him.

He traced the features of her porcelain face. Her lips, eyes and soft ginger hair were all as he had remembered. He longed to kiss her at last. "I still do," he professed softly.

"No, Severus. You love a memory. I've been dead too long for it to be anything but. A man of your intellect cannot deny this truth," She paused waiting for his rebuttal.

He studied the graceful ghost at his side. "But I'm… I'm dead now too," he argued weakly, desperately.

"Even in death I belong to another." A twinkle from her slender finger caught his eye as she spoke. "You cannot change that."

Severus stopped in his tracks; his heart seemed to fall miserably from his chest. It had always comforted him to know that if he was to die fighting Voldemort, then at least he would be reunited with Lily. Yet, here she was in the afterlife, still unwilling to be his.

"Come, Sev. We must continue walking," she said taking his hand once more.

"Why?" he snapped pulling his hand away.

"Because it is the way, my friend."

"No Lily." Tears welled in his eyes and his chest tightened. "Why did you not love me?" he asked slowly, pain issuing with each word.

"Who said I never did?" she answered pulling him forward by the hands, her doe eyes pleading for understanding.

Her admission left him stunned. Helplessly he followed her lead, willing to go wherever she wished him to.

"But you didn't let me love you," she continued. "You pushed me away. It's what you _do,_ Severus. Keeping your heart locked away so no-one can touch it… hurt it. And should anyone venture too close, you defend it like a wounded animal." Her head shook slightly; her brow heavy with grief knowing that he had never known a woman's love.

He opened his mouth to argue, to deny her words. But he knew she was right. That's precisely how it had felt when he called her Mudblood. Then again, he'd always assumed he had become this way _because_ of her, not before her. Dumbledore had once told him that he was his own worst enemy. He hadn't bothered to understand his meaning until now. The weight of his error smothered him.

"I'm sorry, Lily. I never meant to hurt you." He had said it to her before. But never had he meant it more completely than now.

"I know Sev," she replied sweetly, turning to interlock elbows with him. "That's why I'm here for you now." She leant her head to his shoulder and they continued down the invisible path silently.

Several steps later she stopped. Lily turned her head as if to listen to something in the distance. Something that Severus could not hear. She turned back to him and blinked her eyes at him. "I'm sorry Sev, but Harry needs me," she announced delicately. Severus took several moments before finding the strength to release her hand. "You'll be safe in there," she said gesturing to a point beyond.

A grey mist swirled and pulsed where her fingers had indicated. A large stone arch took shape in the darkness, followed eventually by a round building forming piecewise from it. Lily pressed Severus forward gently. He stopped a few paces short of the entrance and looked back over his shoulder, wondering if he would ever see her again.

"Lily?-" he started.

"Go Severus. Go now." He did not understand her urgency, but was unable to deny her.

"Severus," she called once he had stepped onto the threshold. "When she comes for you, you _must_ let her in."

He turned again to face her, to ask her for clarification, but she was gone. The archway he had just trespassed filled itself in with bricks one by one. He turned to look for another door or window, but there was none. He found himself trapped and alone, a fitting penance for his sins he mused.

Resigned, he drew close to the only furnishing within the large room, a four poster bed draped in sheer black curtains. He was weary and welcomed the comforting embrace of eternal sleep. He lay down and closed his eyes. And as he had done each night for nearly twenty years, he called out to her.

"However far away, I will always love you."

**A/N Things aren't as they seem, I promise. Stay tuned for less angst, more humor and romance. And if anyone would like to hear Snape's parting words in the most beautiful way, look up Adele's "Lovesong" on Youtube. Yeah, a little sappy but it was what I was listening to when I finished this chapter. **

**P.S. Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Sorry for the delay but here's chapter 2. Just finished reading the last book again after the movie came out and I noticed that the movie venue for Snape's death was the boathouse, not the Shrieking Shack. I think I like the boathouse better since the Malfoy's may have used it to escape from Hogwarts. But I'm trying to stick to the books as much as possible… more of a challenge. Tell me what you think.**

"I _know,_ mother!" stormed Draco Malfoy, grabbing another fistful of blonde hair.

His mother, having lost her composure hours ago, was pacing wildly around the dimly lit room frantically searching her mind for answers to their dilemma. Lying pale and ghostly still beneath sheets of deep silken coal was the ravaged body of Severus Snape. Crusted blood clung to the edges of days-old wounds that trailed down his neck and chest. The trickle fresh blood, which had become increasingly faint in the four days since they smuggled his crumpled form from the floor of the Shrieking Shack to Malfoy Manor, was the only sign that he had not yet left their world. He had not regained consciousness and as thus, had been completely useless to assist them in his recovery.

Narcissa Malfoy had once again urged her son to do something, anything to save her friend and only hope. This was their third attempt at a healing potion. Again it had failed and again she cruelly and needlessly pointed this out to her son.

"Maybe we need a purer source of Regulus," she suggested, her hands shaking from lack of sleep.

Maybe he should have paid more attention in potions class and not let his teacher pass him to N.E.W.T. level on house loyalty alone. Maybe if he knew what else Snape may have taken he could counter it. Maybe if he knew more about Nagini's venom he could tailor the antidote. Maybe if his mother could snap out of her hysteria she could help him put the pieces together. Draco's mind was full of maybe's. Of that, he had plenty. Time was running out and what he needed now were answers.

Narcissa slumped uncharacteristically into the high-backed chair across from her husband and buried her face in her hands. A slow, greyed hand rose to comfort her. But his weakened touch was only a reminder of how desperate she was to have Severus back among them. The Cruciatus served by the Dark Lord and with the aid of the Elder Wand could have rivaled a dementor's kiss. Only Severus could or would help bring Lucius back from the edges of insanity.

Draco took in the scene before him and finally admitted to himself that he was in over his head. He needed to reach out for help; but not from the usual sources. Death Eaters were known for their treachery, not a faithful sense of community. Once news of Lord Voldemort's demise had reached the masses they would not come to his aid. If anything, they would seek to disentangle themselves from the losing side as soon as possible and from the Malfoy's in particular.

Legitimate sources of help were equally unavailable. Snape was essentially second-in-command after that night in the Astronomy Tower, and as such, rightly unworthy of sympathy from enemies of the Dark Lord. And if the Malfoy's found it hard to believe Snape was Dumbledore's spy, surely the members of the Side of Light would find it difficult to believe. Surely they'd rather see him rot than waste a drop of energy saving Dumbledore's murderer.

No, Snape's life could not be trusted with either side. As much as it pained him, Draco knew that his best hope lay in a particular Gryffindor's sense of ethics and a suspicion that she had once secretly held a school girl's crush on the man. A crush no doubt cooled by the death of the Headmaster. But girls were curious creatures and if Potter's testimony about Snape's allegiance held any truth at all, that crush likely burned anew.

"I must go back to Hogwarts." He announced.

"No Draco. I won't allow it," answered Narcissa firmly. "It's too dangerous. You will be captured. You know this." She waved off his absurdity.

"You know I must, mother. His records are there, his potions ingredients, his stud-." Draco stopped short from enumerating a student and a muggleborn among the necessary resources he'd find at the school. There was no way he'd convince her of Hermione's usefulness. He crossed the room to kneel close to his mother. Taking her hand for reassurance he laid out the plan.

"I've given it considerable thought." He had, in fact, since the first failed attempt to stop the bleeding. "I can aparate to the main gate, transform to my animagus to enter the castle, and remain disillusioned while I am there. I'll leave at dusk and return after nightfall." Draco waited for his mother to process his words. "He will not last much longer and I _need _help on this," he added, giving a necessary nudge of urgency.

Narcissa cupped her hands over her son's face. Tears welled in soft brown eyes as she realized that she would not dissuade Draco. He was not the pliable boy she had known a year ago. "Be careful, Draco," she pleaded, knowing that the next time she saw him, he could be in prison, or worse.

Draco rose and turned towards his father. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder and looked into distant grey eyes. "I will not fail you, sir."

Draco rarely invoked his animagus, embarrassed that the only form he had ever been able to correctly imitate was regretfully similar to that which he'd been forcibly transformed into years ago. Yet, he had to admit: his ferret-self blended nicely with the grounds outside Hogwarts Castle, not at all out of place in the Scottish countryside.

As he closed the distance between himself and the school, he noticed a handful of staff plodding along as zombies, surveying the heap of rubble that had once been the North wall. Thankfully, they took no notice as he passed; sufficiently distracted it seemed, with the battle's aftermath. He might just have easily walked to the Main Entrance untransformed. He continued gingerly through the broken stones and crushed mortar and rounded to the East wall. Drawing himself close the wall, he followed it to the steps that would lead to an exterior door. Once arrived, he pressed his ear to thick heavy wood and listened a moment for voices. Had it been a typical day at Hogwarts, he calculated, nearly everyone would be in the Great Hall for dinner. Noting a broken corner on the bottom of the door, he squeezed his head through the entrance. To his relief, the foyer to the Great Hall was empty.

After a bit of squirming, he was inside. Letting out a long held breath, he paused a moment to take in his surroundings. The stairs leading to the dungeon were to his right. The sight of them came with a rush of memories. Images of the Slytherin dormitories, a safe haven of sorts and the welcoming camaraderie of his schoolmates that he left behind just days ago closed around him. Now he was returning to them, a slinking, powerless fugitive. He could call no one friend.

He pushed these unsettling thoughts aside and started down the steps, stopping when he found a dark alcove where he could return to his human albeit disillusioned form without being noticed. He made his way down the dank dungeon passageway, passing the classroom where he first learned the arts of potion making seven years ago, ignoring the portrait of the White Witch that would have lead him to the Slytherin common room, and stopping at a large black door at the end of the hallway that once was the home of his teacher and protector. Snape's wards were gone, giving the distinctive impression that Draco was entering the man's tomb.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through to the entrance and found Snape's personal lab just as he had left it. The walls closest to him were lined with shelves upon shelves of multi-colored potion ingredients, both strange and stranger. Along the far wall a substantial personal library loomed over a simple writing desk and a small collection of books, quills and parchment. To his left, a nine-foot black and silver knight eyed him from an old battered tapestry, daring anyone to trespass further into Snape's quarters.

Lighting a nearby lamp, Draco made his way slowly around a large wooden table that occupied the center of the room. A plump cast iron cauldron squatted on the side closest to the desk, its contents forgotten. Empty sheets of parchment lay pinned beneath a heavy topaz stone near the table's edge. Several small bowls containing dry potion ingredients mingled with bizarre glassware and a myriad of silver utensils. A mortar and pestle, full of half crushed wormwood leaves, sat forward a row of corked, slender bottles, each containing a suspiciously dark crimson liquid.

Draco was too busy envisioning his tall brooding potions master working his way through the forgotten brew to notice the empty cauldron near the table's leg. It clanged in annoyance as his foot ran into it. He quickly reached down to silence the offended pot, stilling himself when he heard a subtle noise from outside the lab. He had barely enough time to mutter the disillusionment spell and extinguish the lamp before the door began to move.

A slender form stood at the doorway, illuminated only by the light of the hall way. "Who's there?" a familiar female voice called. Draco remained silent. As the woman made her way into the room he matched her pace, circling the table, making his way towards the corner behind her. She relit the lamp and at once the voice had a name. Hermione Granger.

What a relief, he thought, realizing she had saved him the trouble of trying to approach her in Gryffindor Tower. He was doubly impressed with his luck when he figured only now that he might not have even found her there.

Hermione cautiously toured the laboratory, flipping casually through the parchment on the center table. She scrutinized the cold contents of the cauldron and her brow furrowed in query. She straightened from the table and let out a sigh. "Of course you're not here," she whispered into the quiet. "Couldn't you have least haunted us like Professor Binns?" She looked surprisingly sad for someone who would likely be ruthlessly taunted by the ghost in question.

As Hermione rounded the corner of the table her tears were reflected the light of the lamp_. "Actual Tears?" _he mused_, "Silly, emotional girl." _Draco smiled, knowing his estimation of her sympathy was correct.

She twisted back to admire the shelves of books but maintained her path towards the corner, the same corner where Draco now stood. He inched minutely towards the door. But she caught a shimmery movement in her peripheral sight. She spun her head around, brandishing her wand in front of her and bringing it unknowingly close to Draco's chest. He froze.

Hermione stared wide-eyed at the space between herself and a wall of dusty bottles, uncertain if her vision had been blurred by tears or something worse. Soon however, she had decided that she was indeed being paranoid and made a movement towards the door to leave.

Realizing in a flash that he would lose his opportunity to speak with her without the torture of breaking into the Gryffindor dormitories, Draco cancelled the disillusionment spell and reached out for her arm.

Bad Idea.

Hermione shrieked at the sudden touch, having yet to even recognize her attacker. "Stupefy!" she shouted, but he had grabbed the wrist holding her wand and directed it upwards, sending the spell to the vaulted ceiling. In the next instant Hermione looked at Draco's face and fear was replaced with anger. He reached into his pocket for his wand but found it missing. Sensing his confusion, Hermione made to punch him with her free hand, but as she was right-handed, her punches landed feebly.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" she screamed.

Instinctively, Draco clamped her mouth shut with his other hand, a movement which propelled them both towards the center table. Hermione's back landed on the sharp corner and she let out a painful groan. "Granger, stop fighting me!" he pleaded. She would do no such thing, instead working even harder to free her wand hand, hitting him several times in the face with her left fist. But Draco easily out-muscled her and in a swift move he pinned her arm behind her back, leant forward and twisted his arm so that once again his hand claimed her mouth.

Then, realizing he would need to use a silencing spell if he didn't want anyone coming to Hermione's rescue, he made a grab for her wand. Still unwilling to surrender, she thrashed her wand hand violently behind her hoping to escape his grip. A jar of amber liquid was sent crashing to the floor from the tables' surface, followed shortly by a bowl of powder. Draco leveraged his entire body against her securing a leg between her two and bending her painfully backwards over the table.

Hermione was suddenly aware of her vulnerable position. A wave of panic engulfed her as she imagined just what a vengeful ex-Death Eater might be capable of. She made another frantic attempt to escape by bucking her entire body. His response was to bear down harder against Hermione and the table. The edge dug deeply into her pinned wrist and hip, the pain making her nearly lose grip of her wand. She closed her eyes as if to shut it all out.

"Hermione, please," Draco grunted rather calmly, his breath in her ear. "I'm not trying to hurt you."

At the utterance of her given name, Hermione's eyes popped open. Draco's eyes were pleading with her to stop. She was breathing rapidly through her nose but her body stilled.

"I need to talk to you. That's all. I need your help," he said softly. She furrowed her brow in anger and continued to seethe under his weight.

"I'm going to let you up now. But please, Hermione, I beg you, don't hex me until you hear me out." Still angry, she nodded faintly.

Slowly, he pulled his body off of her and released her hand. She shot her left hand out from behind her back making Draco flinch. She massaged the blood back into it while catching her breath. Draco caught glimpse of his missing wand on the floor behind him. Taking a few steps back he bent down cautiously to pick it up. Hermione was immediately on guard pointing her wand at the blonde. Draco put up both hands in a sign of surrender, his wand dangling awkwardly between two fingers.

"And just why should I help you, Malfoy?" she spat. Without breaking eyesight with Hermione he slowly placed his wand in his pocket letting her know he had no intention of using it.

"Well, you're not helping me, really. It's Professor Snape." He left his words dangling in the air for her to consider.

She lowered her wand. "I'm sorry but you're too late," she announced quietly, her eyes filling again with tears. "He's dead."

"No Granger, I assure you he _is_ alive." Her face screwed up in disbelief, she mouthed words of confusion. "He survived Voldemort's treachery, only just. My parents brought him back to the Manor in hopes of healing him." He paused briefly, gauging her willingness. "He was doing well at first but I'm afraid he's taken a turn. He has a day, maybe two at most."

Hermione was quiet for some time. Her features softened with the possibility that the Dark Hero might live.

"What is it you want?" she asked.

"You," He replied. Then, in light of their earlier struggle, he hurried to correct himself. "I mean to say that… er… well, you're the brightest, most resourceful witch I know. _And_ you were his favorite."

"Please," she sneered. "He loathed me. And you received the same marks as me."

"_Your_ marks weren't due to house loyalty," retorted Draco. "And you _were_ his favorite. But he couldn't go around advertising it, now could he? In fact, he once let slip to my father that you were rather brilliant. That did not go well with our lot, you can imagine. Anyway, do you really think I would have risked capture if I didn't think you were his best chance at a survival?"

He studied Hermione's stiff withdrawn posture, folded arms and piercing scowl. Distrust exuded from her entire body. She may have been convinced of her high standing with her former professor, but she wasn't yet convinced to trust the motives of the man before her.

"Look, Severus Snape was not the man you think he was," he stated simply. Hermione's face flattened. "You may not know this, but the Dark Lord ordered me to kill Dumbledore..." Draco swallowed hard knowing this admission would not endear him to Hermione. "... in exchange for my father's life. My mother made an Unbreakable Vow with Snape to protect me in my endeavor. If I should fail, he was to carry out my task.

"And I did fail. I couldn't…," said Draco, shaking his head in resignation. "I just couldn't."

"But that's not why he did it," Hermione supplied, narrowing her eyes at the blonde. She wondered if Malfoy had missed Harry's admission that Snape was a double agent. Did he not know about his loyalty to Dumbledore?

"Perhaps not," he returned. "Nonetheless, he spared my soul the consequences of taking another's life. For that I owe him dearly. I saw what killing the Headmaster did to him. In fact, I'm quite certain that he wished he had died by the curse's revenge." Hermione's eyes welled again with sorrow. Whether it was for Snape or Dumbledore, Draco was unsure.

"Hermione," Draco started again beseechingly. "Professor Snape deserves better than to be betrayed by that bastard and left for dead in a filthy shack. Please?"

Hermione regarded the young Slytherin; his blue eyes were sincere and desperate. She unfolded her arms at last. He had not earned her full trust, but at least she knew they sought the same end.

"So, what have you tried so far?"

**A/N I think Slytherins need to be personally motivated but know how to prey on the emotions of others. What do you think? **

**Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Draco smiled, quietly triumphant that he was able to win over the witch. Reveling in this small success, he registered her question late.

"You would do well to wipe that smirk off you face," she admonished. "I'm doing this for him, not for you."

"Of course," he said with a slight bow. "So what have I tried? Well, um... We immediately brewed fresh blood replenishing potions. He's been taking that about every three hours or so. But they've lost effectiveness it seems." Hermione had turned away from Draco as he spoke and began looking over the Potion Master's desk. "The antidote to the snake's venom was found in … Someone's, Something Venomous Creatures Far and Wide… I think."

"Hmm, Goren Alexander's Encyclopedia of Venomous Creatures…?" asked Hermione, reading the title from one of many atop Snape's desk.

"Yes, I believe so." he replied taking the book that she held out to him.

"Find it," she commanded, turning again to the desk. Hermione hadn't missed the significance of the book among the various items occupying the desk's surface. Like the lab bench, it represented Snape's last bit of research. A good spy is always one step ahead of his adversary. He must have predicted Voldermort's eventual betrayal. And the books found here must have been used to plan a defense. "Blood Magic", a simple title, made Hermione cringe as images of Snape's bloodied neck assaulted her. "Extraction and Purification Techniques" by Ludolf von Soxhlet reminded her of textbook in her parents library. The gilded edges and embossed runes told her, however, that this had nothing to do with Muggle chemistry.

But, what was missing was almost as telling as what was present. Snape's notebook. How many times had he berated his students on the poor quality of their notebooks? Surely he would have followed his own advice. Perhaps the nature of his most recent work was too sensitive to be written down, she mused. Or, it was disguised? Tentatively, she trailed her fingers over the books along the shelves. Sure enough, she felt the tell-tale buzz of weakened ward over a tidy row of green leather bound books, nearly a dozen in number. She muttered a quiet _Revelo_ and the true titles shimmered into view. Dates – a string of dates reaching back nearly 18 years. But, her hopes fell heavy as she read the last title, tilted awkwardly against an empty space. The most recent volume was missing.

Hermione slumped in frustration, nearly dropping the books she had retrieved from his desk. Looking down to reposition them, she noticed a small yellowed card peering from the end pages of Blood Magic. Gently, she opened the book and turned the card over. Green eyes greeted her from an old photograph. The girl, perhaps 16, seemed to be holding the camera at arm's length. Flushed cheeks betrayed her embarrassment at being caught by the photographer. He smile was flirtatious, contagious and genuine. No wonder Snape was so taken with her.

"Hermione," called Draco, pulling her gaze away from the photo. She stuffed it back into the book and headed back towards the table where he had been searching the encyclopedia.

"Did you find the antidote?"

"Hmm? Oh yes," Draco said trailing off. But his intense focus on the blank parchment at the table's edge caught her attention. "Don't breathe," he said, carefully sliding the sheets closer, being sure not to disturb the black powder that had settled into swirling grooves after their confrontation. Draco reached down to recover a bit of the powder that had landed on the floor and sprinkled the dark particles over the parchment as random swirls turned to quite legible strokes from a once invisible quill.

"A shopping list, I believe," said Draco. "And, if I'm not mistaken, the Draught of Living Death."

"But that's just for 6th year Potions."

"No. He pulled it from the curriculum. I don't know why, but I remember the Slytherin students being disappointed about it."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but turned back to the parchment. "That's Arithmancy in the margins there. I think he means to adjust the Valerian Root. But Gods! That's nearly 20 times the student's portion!"

"Why would he alter the recipe?" Draco thought aloud.

"Well, he may have needed this one to actually work." suggested Hermione. "Can you imagine if there were to be an accident involving a student and a live potion?" Hermione sniffed the cauldron again and nodded. "Wormwood."

"Slughorn said the strength of the potion was determined by how long one simmered the wormwood essence."

"Partly. It's a complicated potion. I suspect that the ingredients have a synergistic effect. Asphodel for example, is also used in the blood replenishing potion, which certainly doesn't promote the semblance of dea…" Hermione trailed off, regarding the books in her hand once more.

She laid the Blood Magic text on top of Venomous Creatures. Bringing her wand over the book she thought about the spell she was about to cast. Normally she only used this for books she read herself.

"Bookmark!" she began with a double tap of her wand. The book wiggled in anticipation then flipped to the end pages. Lily's picture was thankfully face-down. She didn't want to take time to deal with Draco's reaction to it. "No." she said closing the book quickly. "Bookmark of Severus Snape!" Again the book opened to the end pages. "Damn." she cursed, shutting the book with the force of her frustration.

"What are you trying to do, Granger? What is that spell?" Draco asked.

"It's my own," she answered with a tangible amount of pride. "I use it when I'm studying."

"You really are a work of art, you know that?" Draco added sarcastically.

She brushed it off. "I'm trying to determine why Snape found this book useful." She tried several variations, calling to the 'last page', the 'last touch', the 'last thought'. Each time it turned to the end. "_Gods, he must've looked at her picture a lot_!" she thought to herself with a sigh.

"Apparently, the index holds the key," offered Draco as he reached for the photo.

"No, Bookmark!" she called out before he reached it, snatching Draco's fingers in the closing book.

"Easy, Granger!" he snapped, pulling back quickly.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. It's just that it keeps turning to the end because that's the last page_ I_ read," she lied.

"Or _maybe_ he only looked at the index to see if it covered the information he was looking for. What convinces you that it will be useful to us anyway?" he said rubbing his fingers and looking truly offended.

"_Duh_," she almost said aloud, pointing out the title of the book to him instead. "Asphodel is used to 'manage' magic in potions. It was on his desk along with the encyclopedia and this," she said indicating the book of extraction methods.

Draco evaluated Hermione for a moment. "Well why don't you try asking the book for Snape's interest, or his _gleanings_?"

Hoping to avoid revealing Snape's 'interest' to Draco, she opted for the latter suggestion. "Bookmark of Severus Snape, reveal your master's gleanings. _Tap, Tap_."

The book vibrated in acknowledgment then opened excitedly. Pages filed past quickly but stopped on page 409. Draco furrowed his brow as he read the chapter title, "_Transference of Magic._" He paled notably. His gaze drifted cautiously back to the center of the table and to the row of slender tubes of crimson fluid.

But Hermione's attention was caught on the final words of the previous chapter. "I don't know about you but I always read the end of the chapter last," she muttered absently as she turned to the beginning of the chapter; "_Source of Magic within the Self._"

This was turning out to be an interesting book indeed. She had often wondered what made someone magical or non magical, a consequence of her blood status, she supposed. But she had been disgusted with most books on the topic since they seemed, in one way or another, to reinforce the idea that Muggles were an inferior subset of humans, a concept she could not accept given the love for her parents.

The resentment she felt over the idea of magical superiority began to rise to a boil within her. With a subtle snarl she turned to shoot silent daggers at the only Pureblood in the room. She found him staring intently at something in his hand that he had pulled from the table. Draco could feel the heat of her stare and turned to her.

"What is that?" she asked trying unsuccessfully to hide the venom in her thoughts.

His mouth gaped open, unable to answer her.

"Blood?" she offered for him, disgusted.

"Yes," he answered solemnly.

"Who's blood?"

Draco licked his lips before answering. "Mu- Muggleborns." Hermione wasn't sure if she should strangle the Slytherin before her or run off to vomit.

Fortunately at the same moment they heard footsteps in the corridor outside of the lab. Draco quickly disillusioned himself and stood behind Hermione. The door creaked open and the tall figure of a witch in green tartan robes entered the room.

"Miss Granger! What are you doing here?" asked a worried Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione couldn't answer. She looked at the table to think, answering at last, "I suppose I came here to pay my respects." It was honest at least.

"Yes. Well, do be careful while you are down here," she warned, taking in the strange room. She paused at a box sitting precariously on one of the many shelves. She knew to contain a cursed totem and pulled away from it with apprehension. "He's no longer here to protect you from the dark magic that this room contains. Is he?" Hermione could hear the grief hidden in the old woman's voice.

She considered consoling the woman for a moment by telling her that Professor Snape was still alive. But a disillusioned hand on her elbow reminded her that his condition and certainly his whereabouts should remain a secret for the time being.

"It was un-warded when I came in." Hermione supplied innocently and not knowing what else to say. "I figured that Aurors had already searched it for anything dangerous."

"There was no time for that. Honestly, now that Alastor and Remus are dead, I really don't know what we'll do with Professor Snape's things." McGonagall pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes.

"There's no hurry Headmistress." Hermione hoped there would be no need to clear the room.

"No, I suppose not." The old witch stared mutely at the center table for several moments then turned to make leave. "Hermione, you would do well to leave those books where they lay and don't stay long… please," she said over her shoulder. The Head of House knew the bookworm too well.

Hermione let out a sigh once the door closed. "How long do you think we have until she checks in on you again?" Draco said casually as he removed the disillusionment spell.

"An hour maybe," she said spinning to stare at the ex-Death Eater. "Plenty of time to explain why Snape would have vials of Muggleborn blood on his lab bench."

Draco winced at her words. He had hoped the intrusion by McGonagall would have derailed her thoughts. But he underestimated her tenacity. "The Dark – Voldemort believed that Muggleborns should be stripped of their magic. I suspect that he may have ordered Snape to develop a potion to do so."

"May have?" Hermione asked incredulously; her ire had returned full force.

"I was not privy to the mission of others." he shot back angrily. "I only say this because he seemed to be experimenting with Muggleborns towards the end. The initials on the some of the tubes here _appear_ to correspond to those victims."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Snape was experimenting on Muggleborns?"

"No, Voldemort. He used the snake. But it's not unreasonable that samples may have been taken to determine the effectiveness or… to develop the modified venom in the first place." Hermione had taken to closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as Draco went on. "This sample for example," he said with a slight quiver in his voice, "is from a Pureblood. He may have tried to ensure it only affected his desired targets."

Hermione opened her eyes to look at the bottle in Draco's hand. Two letters were etched on its surface.

N.M. She could tell from his clenched jaw, white knuckles and heavy breathing that Draco was about to break. She wondered if Narcissa had given her blood willingly. Hermione raised a hand to Draco's forearm and squeezed gently. He swallowed hard. He couldn't look her in the eye.

"Draco, I think the next step is to find his notebook." Hermione's calm voice snapped him out of his trance and he nodded in agreement.

"I'll look in his quarters," he offered. Hermione took to searching the rest of the lab. But after fifteen minutes they came to the same conclusion. The notebook was likely with him when he left Hogwarts.

"He did have a study set aside at the Manor. It may be there." Draco suggested.

"You need to bring it back here, then."

"No, I can't," said Draco plainly. "Need I remind you that I am a fugitive? As it is, I've stayed too long. McGonagall may return any minute. I must leave Hogwarts as soon as possible and I can't risk a return trip."

"But we _need_ that notebook," Hermione implored. "Without it we won't know if or how the snake's venom has been modified."

"Then you'll have to accompany me back to the Manor."

"Are you mental, Malfoy?" she shrieked, regretting that she sounded a bit like Ron.

"No. I'm most certainly not. Do you have a better alternative? Really? Where's that Gryffindor bravery I've heard so much about?" he sneered. Hermione snorted in response and narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "Besides where did you expect to brew the healing potion anyway?" He was right, though she was loath to admit it.

"You have my word, Hermione." he soothed. "I will not let any harm come to you while you are at the Manor."

Hermione pondered the temperature of Hell as she shook his hand, putting her faith and wellbeing in the hands of a Slytherin and ex-Death Eater.

**A/N So I didn't come up with a fancy incantation for the bookmark spell. I was going off the way Snape revealed the contents of the Marauder's Map when he caught Harry with it in GoF. Plain ol' English. If anyone can help me come up with a good alternative, I'm happy to consider updating the chapter with it.**

**Please Review !**


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione gathered a few more books while Draco plundered Snape's personal potion stores, stashing the loot in a satchel that he retrieved from his cloak. At last, they made their way out of the potions lab and headed up the spiral staircase, thankful they had not encountered any Slytherins returning from dinner. Hermione confirmed that the foyer to the Great Hall was free of students and faculty before waving at Draco's disillusioned form. He moved out from behind her and made for the side door. Hermione joined him on the other side and they each let out long breaths of relief.

The sun had retired for the evening leaving Hogwarts' grounds illuminated only by the light of a half moon. Draco silently thanked the low light that had allowed him to remain disillusioned on the path to the apparition point. When Hermione had asked how he had managed the trek to the castle earlier in the light of the setting sun, a condition that would have easily revealed a Disillusionment Spell, Draco damned her curiosity and refused to answer. The question rolled around Hermione's mind, keeping her quiet through their apparition to the heavily wooded area that bordered Malfoy Manor. Hermione had just opened her mouth to pry an answer from him when they arrived at the wood's edge.

The stony estate crept slowly into view like a monstrous beast rising from the dark, all but baring its teeth. A shuttering chill ran down Hermione's spine. Images of a deranged Bellatrix, spitting obscenities, flashed in her mind and for a moment she was once again pinned to the floor by the weight of the dark witch. Her arm ached anew as cruel words took form in her torn flesh. Her mouth dropped open as memories assaulted her ruthlessly. Shivering uncontrollably, she was barely aware of a man calling her name.

"Granger!" Draco called for the third time reaching for her.

Hermione recoiled at his touch before realizing it. "I… I'm sorry," she replied weakly, shaking her head to clear her mind of the frightening images.

"Let's go," he said taking a few steps backwards, watching her quizzically as he beckoned her forward.

But Hermione's feet would not comply. The night air licked at the sweat on the back of her neck, amplifying her fear and rendering her frozen in place. "I can't," she whispered in terror, her eyes filling rapidly with tears.

With sudden understanding Draco stepped close, placing a gentle, yet hesitant hand on her shoulder. "She's dead, Hermione. Don't let her torment you from the grave." Hermione nodded emphatically and tried to gather her courage enough to let him lead her into the Manor.

Draco avoided the drawing room that would certainly trigger another flashback, taking the stairwell down to the lower level instead. Hermione's erratic breathing steadied once they stopped at a small room just opposite the main cellar. She lifted her head to take in its arrangement; Snape's potions lab and study. A long heavy worktable ran the length of the windowless room along the side wall. A cramped reading area sat at the far end.

"I see that you've been at work here," she said disapprovingly, recognizing immediately the chaos of her classmate's work space. Dirty cauldrons, dusty bottles of ingredients and an array of soiled utensils cluttered the benchtop. The table's surface, nearly the entire length, was splattered with potion residue and ingredient cuttings. A consequence of his upbringing, she supposed. Cleaning was the work of servants. "Any chance you've seen his journal?" she asked as she carefully sniffed a cauldron he had left in stasis.

"I put his things over there," he answered, jerking his head towards a brown wing-backed leather chair in the back. Hermione frowned at the unsteady tower of books that occupied the seat and threatened to topple over the armrest. Clearly, putting books away properly was beneath him as well.

Draco moved past her, ignoring her obvious contempt, and retrieved a book from the middle of the stack. "You may want to sit," he advised as he cleared the chair with a wave of his wand. Hermione studied him through narrowed eyes as she pulled the book from his grasp and sat down to read.

The work contained in the journal started out simple enough. It seemed that Snape had taken over supplying Death Eaters with healing potions after his predecessor had been "removed from service." But entries documenting the preparations of such innocuous potions quickly gave way to his more sinister projects. Draco was correct in assuming that Voldemort had been experimenting with Muggleborns- or rather Mudbloods. There was no room for political correctness in this notebook. Page after page described, rather gruesomely, the trials and errors of developing a potion to extract magic from persons deemed unworthy of such a gift. Snape dutifully noted the results from several months of testing, beginning with the initial trials. These proved only lethal - a failure in the eyes of the Dark Lord it seemed, since it killed the victim before extraction was possible.

Snape had then begun working with a series of altered potions, each ending in a death more horrific than the last. "Disembowelment." "Exsanguination from every pore." "Liquified Human." This last descriptor had Hermione retching violently. She pulled her cloak over her nose and mouth, searching for some semblance of protection. With much effort, she resumed reading. The final entries of the journal described a powerful poison that could effectively and painfully extract magic from an individual, be they Muggleborn or Pureblood.

At last Hermione came to a blank page. Her mind raced with a myriad of emotions: relief that she had reached the end of the notebook, uncertainly at having come to aid of a man who had been involved in such a vile project, and disappointment at not having come across the antidote to the poison. She turned back to the previous page, noting that the entry was dated just six days prior the Battle of Hogwarts. She closed the book and regarded the dark brown leather cover with a heavy heart.

Hermione shook her head, first to dislodge the images that the book had conjured in her mind and second to acknowledge that something didn't add up. As she fingered the book's spine, it dawned on her. This book bore no resemblance at all to those from his office at Hogwarts. She reluctantly opened the journal to the first page.

Her suspicion was correct. This book was dated a full seven months earlier than the last one from Hogwarts had ended. It meant that there was still a notebook missing.

"This isn't it!" she exclaimed, startling Draco from his work at the bench. He stopped stirring his potion and turned to her in confusion.

"What do you mean? I saw him with no other."

"Of course not!" she said excitedly as she jumped out of the chair. "It wouldn't have done his cause much good if Voldemort knew he had another. The one we need is bound in green… and thinner," she said as she went about the room feeling up the tables and shelves, searching for wards that might suggest the book's presence. Draco sat back on his stool, content to watch the crazed witch touch every surface of the room. To ask for an explanation would only serve as a distraction to her sudden madness.

An electric buzz tickled Hermione's fingers as she passed a heavy iron lamp resting on the reading table. She lifted the concealing charm with a quick pass of her wand, grinning in delight as the base of the lamp transformed to the notebook in question. She opened the journal eagerly, certain that the contents in this tome would not offer the horrors of the last.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the pages revealed a busy Potion Master tasked with supplying the Hogwarts infirmary with a number of healing potions. Attempts to stabilize Katie Bell after her brush with a certain cursed necklace were in here too. This garnered a quick scowl from Hermione towards her new partner in crime, making him turn back to his brew while she read on.

At last she came upon what appeared to be the first steps towards an antidote. Thankfully the entries did not include grisly descriptions of human trials. Rather, this Snape tested his potions only on blood samples, likely those that she had found in his lab at school. Hermione recognized most of the ingredients, though not all. The techniques, however, were relatively advanced. Regardless, she felt reasonably capable of following his method.

The pages that followed documented Snape's attempts to find an inconspicuous delivery method for the antidote. Apparently that's where the trouble began. Voldemort's choice of Nagini as the vehicle of delivery turned out to be more of a necessity rather than for than his amusement at watching his pet shred his victim to bits. It allowed for direct access to the blood stream. In the case of the antidote, Snape would use wormwood to speed delivery from a cut in the hand to the heart. Evidently, this led to his decision to incorporate the antidote into the Draught of Living Death. The added benefit of this was to provide a mechanism for faking his death.

But the results seemed to vary at this point and at times were rather discouraging. The problem troubled Snape to the end of his notes leaving Hermione disheartened. His final observation, "_suspect a conflict between the coagulation effect of salvia divinorum and dispersion effect of asphodel_" had her furrowing her brow and worrying her lip in thought.

And then, it clicked.

"Malfoy! What are you working on?" she said excitedly.

"Finishing up a Blood Reprenishing potion. He's due for a dose soon. Why?" Draco replied suspiciously.

"Have you added the asphodel yet?" Draco nodded. "Then stir the potion seven times counter-clockwise, add another two portions, and continue normally."

"What are you getting at, Granger?" he demanded.

"You said it had lost some of it effectiveness, no? Let's charge it up a bit this round." Hermione smiled broadly with new found hopefulness as the Slytherin shrugged and began stirring backwards. Her smile faded quickly however, as she approached the messy table. "Honestly, how do you work in this filth?"

"Sorry it doesn't meet your standards, Princess."

Hermione shook her head and went to work. With her wand she pushed Draco's simmering cauldron to the end of the bench. She then swept up the dirty utensils and dropped them into a cauldron that was quickly filling with hot soapy water and moving its way towards the other end of the table. Another swish sent potion ingredients to the shelf above and work surface cleared itself of all debris. "I expect you to keep the workstation orderly so long as I am working with you. Understand?"

"Are you always this bossy?" he asked with a smirk that reached his eyes.

Hermione drew her lips to a thin line and skewered him with her eyes. She then set another three cauldrons upon the table and lit fires underneath each one.

"Four potions at once! Are you mad?"

"It'll be tight, but we'll manage," she replied confidently.

"Yeah, that's what _she_ said!" Draco added with a burst of laughter. Hermione dropped her jaw and sucked in a breath. "Sorry Granger, thought I was working with Goyle for a minute."

"How can you joke at a time like this?" she said crossly.

"How can you _not_?" countered Draco. "For the first time in days I finally feel that I have a chance… however remote, that I've done the right thing by bringing you here to help Professor Snape. And even if we cannot save him, he will have died bringing this stupid war to an end. You have no idea what I had to do under that bastard's thumb. I, for one, am _happy_ that he's dead." A false toothy grin erupted on his face. "Seriously, Granger. Lighten up."

Hermione turned away from him, unwilling to outwardly concede defeat, unwilling to let him see the grin that refused to dissipate from her lips. Instead, she set about preparing the three additional brews. "You'll finish the Blood Replenisher and begin the Wiggenweld Potion. I'll begin the antidote. It's complicated and will require two cauldrons."

Draco accepted his tasks without further comment and the two began working silently. An hour later he finished the Blood Replenisher and dispensed the crimson liquid into several vials. The Wiggenweld base solution was simmering happily so he turned his attention to Hermione's work. Snape's notebook lay open next to the cutting board where she was dicing damsel flies. Draco turned the book slightly, an effort to read the ingredients, and caught a momentary glance from Hermione. She frowned at him briefly before turning away and choosing to ignore him once again.

"What's this? I've never heard of it before." he said breaking the silence.

Hermione shoulders drooped at his words. For a moment Draco that she would snap at him again but she simply turned to speak. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. I don't recognize it either... and of course you wouldn't have lifted any from Hogwarts."

Draco shook his head and returned to the notebook. He distantly heard Hermione saying she needed to return to the school for some reason but his attention waned as he read an unrelated entry on the previous page. It was for a pain potion, several of them actually.

"I suspected this," he said tapping the entries with his finger, drawing Hermione's gaze to the page.

"It's just pain potions for Madam Pomfrey's stores." she returned with a shrug.

"It's not just any pain potion. It's for the Crutiatus Curse. I believe it's his own formula."

"By the looks of it then, your Master saw fit to torture him rather frequently," Hermione reasoned in a worried tone as she flipped through pages. Surprisingly, however, the entries for this specialized brew only increased in frequency and quantity in the pages that followed. The dates corresponded to Snape's appointment as Headmaster. "I don't understand? Why would Voldemort continue to punish him? He had just killed Dumbledore after all? Wasn't that beast ever satisfied?"

Draco snorted a laugh at her last words. "He didn't punish much him after that. Well, certainly less _brutally_ than the others anyway," he corrected.

As Hermione studied the notebook entries carefully, Draco continued to explain his theory. "These weren't for him. The Carrow's… Let's just say that discipline techniques changed under their tenure. Some students were used as… test subjects for teaching the curse. Slughorn was instructed to provide enough healing potions to cover life threatening injuries, but pain was considered an 'educational tool'… especially when it concerned your Gryffindors" he said with a quick glance to gauge Hermione's reaction. At her apparent confusion he added, "I believe he was smuggling this potion, and others, to those most severely affected."

Hermione found herself suddenly struggling to reconcile the man who kept a gore filled notebook of Muggleborn experimentation with a man that would defy his own orders to supply victims of torture with healing potions. She had never encountered anyone so contradictory in actions, so obviously conflicted in duty. She was suddenly awed by his ability to keep his two worlds apart and desperately yearned to learn more about this wizard named Severus Snape.

"Are you finished with the Replenisher?" she asked distractedly. Draco jingled the glass vials in his hand in response. "Good, he'll need it. The antidote calls for a bit of his blood," she said pulling the spoon from her brew ang setting it aside. She a_ccio_'ed a large vial from a drawer and turned to the blonde.

"Let's go get check on our ward, shall we?" said Draco gesturing grandly at the door. Hermione eyed his chivalry with suspicion but took his lead nonetheless.

Two flights of stairs later, they turned into a dimly lit narrow hallway. Draco paused at a door to his right and spun around to Hermione. His blue eyes dropped to the floor.

"I feel that I should warn you," he began slowly.

"It's all right, Malfoy. I've witnessed the attack. I'm aware that his injuries are severe."

"Huh? Oh, no, that's not it. Although, he'll likely appear worse today that he was four days ago. No, I meant… My parents. They may be… _surprised_ to see you," he winced. "It may be better if you stayed behind me a bit."

"You didn't tell them?"

"Not exactly, No."

Hermione swallowed hard as Draco reached for the door.

**A/N Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Real life always gets in the way of my fun. Boo. This was also a hard chapter to write. I wanted to wake Snape up, but first you need to know what he's been up to while the trio was off chasing Horcruxes. Enjoy.**

**Please read and review. And since I am by no means a professional writer, I would appreciate some constructive criticism of my style. Thx.**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N This chapter is being reposted after editing… just some typos and a few stylistic changes. Enjoy!

The door creaked softly as Draco pushed through the entrance into Snape's room. In front of a slow burning fire, Narcissa lay asleep upon a long settee. Lucius sat in a tall leather-clad chair at her side, extending an arm to gently caress his wife's hand whilst he stared distantly into the fire. The scene was starkly peaceful considering the events of the last several days and Draco was reluctant to intrude. As he took a few quiet steps past the doorway, Lucius faintly acknowledged his son's entry and rose from the chair. He placed Narcissa's hand delicately at her side, confirming that she remained asleep before making his way to greet Draco.

The relief that shone on the older man's face fell moments later as he spied a Gryffindor hiding in the doorway. Draco put a finger to his lips, an attempt to douse the fiery tirade that threatened to erupt from his father mouth, beckoning the elder Malfoy forward to bring the ensuing argument away from his sleeping mother. Better to deal with them separately, he mused.

Lucius cast a nonverbal _Muffilato_ towards his wife as he shifted a deadly glare between his son and Hermione. She remained in the doorway for the moment, content to use Draco as a shield against Lucius if necessary. Only when the two men settled into their heated conversation did she dare to step into the room to locate Snape.

What she found nearly floored her. His grimly pale and impossibly gaunt body lay still beneath bloodied, silken sheets. The gore of his injuries lay thankfully out of view. As if of their own volition, her feet carried her to his bedside. Wet amber eyes raked over his ghostly form, searching desperately for signs of life. Had she arrived too late? A shallow breath confirmed that he hadn't yet perished, causing a rush of relief to spill over her. Hermione knelt slightly onto the edge of the bed and reached a trembling hand to him, laying it gently on his exposed shoulder.

Cool. Too cool, the skin beneath her fingers. Though having never dared to touch her potions master in such an intimate way, she was none too sure that his temperature was anything but ordinary for him. Gingerly she lifted her hand from his shoulder and turned his face towards her own. Raven tresses fell away from his neck, revealing the gruesome evidence of Nagini's attack. Hermione sucked in a staccato breath at the sight.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" bellowed Narcissa Malfoy from across the room.

Hermione turned from Snape's bedside to find herself suddenly at the end of a rightly startled witch's wand. Her eyes widened in terror as she scrambled backwards, only to crash painfully into the bead post. Narcissa pressed her wand to Hermione's throat seconds later and she struggled not to panic.

"What are you doing here mudblood?" the woman hissed, her voice hauntingly reminiscent of her sister's.

"Mother, no!" shouted Draco, swiftly positioning himself between the two women and holding each at arm's length. He redirected his mother's gaze onto him. "She's here to help us," he added pleadingly.

Refusing to lower her wand, she challenged her son. "Help us? Draco, are you delusional? She'll betray us all to the Ministry! What were you thinking?"

With Narcissa seemingly distracted with Draco, Hermione took the opportunity to eke out from behind him and make for the door. Her exodus was deterred, however, as Lucius inserted himself in her path with an outstretched arm. Even in his seemingly compromised mental state, his glare rendered her boneless with fear. Hermione, fighting an urge to collapse, managed to edge backwards towards Draco instead.

"Everyone just calm down, please." he said motioning for his mother to lower her wand. Lucius moved slowly towards his wife and rested a palm on her shoulder. Draco turned to a trembling Hermione. "Are you all right?" he asked mutely.

"I think so," she whispered as she tore her gaze away from Malfoy senior.

"Explain yourself, Draco," Narcissa spat. "You were to bring back potion ingredients… texts, not one of Dumbledore's tarts."

"Really, Mother," he admonished. "I'm sorry I mislead you but I said that I needed help and _that's_ why she's' here. She can help… she already has," he added jingling the vials of Blood Replenishing Potion in the air. Narcissa turned a dubious eye back to Hermione. "Tell her, Father. Tell her what you said to me, just moments ago. What would the Professor have us do?" Draco pressed.

Lucius regarded his wife and son momentarily before proceeding. "Severus admired the girl, My Dear," he confessed cautiously, "for her intellect, her skill."

Narcissa closed the distance between herself and Hermione and gave the young witch a dark appraising look. Her eyes ran disparagingly over Hermione's form. "Admired her for her… 'skill', did he?" she sneered. Hermione glowered at the slight.

"Mother, she was his best student," Draco argued. "If there is anyone who can determine what I am doing wrong with the healing potions, it is Hermione Granger."

"Perhaps. But _why_ should we trust you?" asked Narcissa, directing her question and a piercing look at Hermione. "What's to keep you from turning us over to Aurors once he's recovered?"

"I'm _not_ a Slytherin," Hermione spat in disgust. Both Draco and Lucius turned on her and eyed her warningly. Hermione immediately wished she had kept that comment to herself. Changing tactics, she quickly amended her response. "D-Draco has, so far, kept his promise that I will not come to harm while I'm here among you. Provided I am able to leave undamaged… I will not turn you over to the authorities. You have my word." Hermione wondered how long it would be before she regretted her word.

Draco stepped closer, considered for a moment her Slytherinesque method of manipulation, and nodded in respect. Keeping his gaze on Hermione, he addressed his parents over his shoulder. "Fair enough then?" The couple looked to each other for reassurance but remained quiet. Draco took their silence as acceptance.

"Well, I suppose we should get to the task at hand. Perhaps you should begin by explaining your plan to my parents… and to me, for that matter. " he said raising an eyebrow.

"Well," began Hermione tentatively. "Your suspicions about Nagini's venom were correct. It had been altered." Lucius turned from the conversation and made for the chair in front of the fire. Hermione absently wondered how involved he had been with the project, but, not wishing to waste time thinking about it, she turned back to Draco.

"Professor Snape was working on an antidote at Hogwarts, but I don't think he was able to suss out the details before the night of the final battle. There seems to be some sort of interference between the antidote and the Draught."

"So, you're certain that he made the Draught of Living Death for himself," queried Draco.

Hermione was about to answer when Narcissa interrupted. "If it was the Draught of Living Death it would have worn off of its own accord days ago," she said with a wave of contempt.

"True," Hermione admitted, maintaining her focus on Draco rather than giving in to his mother's taunts. "But like I said, the antidote is _interfering_. It has something to do with that odd ingredient we saw in his notebook. Anyway, I asked you to make the Wiggenweld Solution to counter the Draught. With it nullified the antidote can be applied without problem… I hope."

"You hope?" shot Narcissa incredulously.

"If you have any better suggestions, let's hear then," argued Hermione, screwing her eyes shut in frustration. "No? Very well. Draco, let's administer the Blood Replenisher and see if the modified formula works."

"Modified formula? What kind of modifications?" Narcissa demanded before grabbing a vial from her son's hand and holding it over a lamp for inspection.

"We tripled the asphodel, mother. That's all." Draco offered placidly, running a hand through his hair.

"That's all? She's nothing but a schoolgirl and she dares to tamper with the recipe? How do you know it won't harm him further? "

"We don't," challenged Hermione, her fists at her hips.

"So you'll just make him your laboratory rat, then?" the older woman spat.

"You three are hardly in a position to condemn experimentation! Oh, my apologies. Is that practice reserved for only for Muggleborns?" she finished with sarcastic rage.

Hermione was in full fury now. It wasn't bad enough that she had been accosted in Snape's laboratory, brought to, of all places Malfoy Manor, and made to learn of the vile details of Snape's work under Voldemort. Now her every motive and judgment was being questioned by this horrid witch. "Look! You aught let me do what I came here… ah, _brought_ here to do. In case you haven't noticed he's moments from death and all you seem capable of is turning your nose at me. Do you want my help or not?"

Draco drew himself away from his father's heated gaze and walked doggedly over to Hermione. He wordlessly pulled the vial out of his mother grasp, handed it to Hermione and led her to Snape's bedside. He gestured to the injured man, an invitation to Hermione to administer the potion. He then walked over to Narcissa, motioned her to sit next to her husband. Leaning down to look his mother in the eye, he pressed a finger to his lips in a silent shush. Defeated, Narcissa turned to stare intently into the fireplace. Draco resolved himself to stand guard over his parents, allowing Hermione to work in peace at last.

After two doses of the Replenisher, Hermione sat back and regarded her patient. "Draco, look!" she said at last. Draco stepped near, holding a stern finger out to the two elder Malfoys in warning as he retreated. Leaning over the bed, he watched in relief as the color began returning to his professor's face. He let out a sigh and turned to smile at Hermione. "It worked!"

"I think so," she replied excitedly. "You'll have to keep an eye on him for a while… until the other potions are ready. Keep his wounds compressed too or he'll continue to bleed out." Hermione summoned fresh bandages and delicately rewrapped Snape's injuries. She rose from the bed and let out a sigh of her own.

"Shouldn't you draw a blood sample from him?" Draco asked.

"No. Let him settle for now. According to his journal, the blood is added in the last step. The Wiggenweld will be ready soon but I think we should wait until the antidote is finished. It seems like the poison is meant to be quite painful and he will not feel pain whilst under the influence of the Draught."

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Hermione." he added.

"Don't thank me until he's awake and calling me names again." she said with a smirk. Suddenly the weight of the day crashed over her and she let out a long yawn.

"Perhaps, you should rest." he offered. "I'll have a room readied for you."

"No. That won't be necessary. I need to go back to Hogwarts tonight."

"What?" called out Narcissa. Hermione had nearly forgotten that the witch was still there. She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"Quiet, mother! I'll handle this," he called to her. "What do you mean you have to go back to Hogwarts tonight?" he said turning back to Hermione, clearly displeased with the idea of her returning to the school. "You shouldn't risk any one seeing you come and go from the Manor."

"I need that ingredient for the antidote." she reminded the blond. "Snape will have a stash of it at Hogwarts most likely… I hope so anyway. I don't remember ever running across it at the apothecary in Diagon Alley. Have you?" Draco shook his head. "Right then, I expect he may have acquired it by _unusual_ means." Hermione shuttered slightly at the thought. "Besides, my presence will be missed." Draco rolled his eyes at her presumptiveness.

"You'll certainly have Aurors at your door if anyone begins to think I've gone missing." she clarified, poking him soundly in the chest.

"I suppose you're correct," murmured Draco, rubbing the point of impact whilst his mother twisted anxiously in her chair. "When do you expect to return?"

"The first phase of the antidote won't be ready until tomorrow evening. Eight-ish, I think," she said checking her watch.

"Very well. I'll escort you to the aparition point."

"I need to retrieve the notebook from the laboratory before I leave, though," she added absently as they made to leave the room. Lucius turned from the fire at the mention of the notebook, apparently thinking she meant the dark one. She had meant only the one containing the antidote, but noting his less than subtle keenness in the former, she decided she would take both. For safekeeping, she reasoned.

….

After leaving Draco with a handful of instructions regarding the potions in progress, Hermione aparated back to Hogwarts without incident. The warmth of her bed beckoned, but stepping through the portrait hole, she realized it wasn't to be.

"Where have you been 'Mione?" Ron asked, rising from the couch to place a chaste kiss on her cheek and wrapping an arm around her waist. Harry looked away as two greeted each other, seemingly not quite ready to see them behaving as a couple just yet. Hermione too, was a bit uncertain about their new status, though the sudden discomfort at his touch surprised her.

"Oh, just the usual," she lied, gesturing with the books in her hand. She had been thoughtful enough to disguise the notebooks as charms texts. "I thought I might help with the repairs to the Great Hall." Hermione rebuked herself inwardly. She mused that she must have been spending much too much time in the company of Slytherins for the lies to fall so easily from her lips.

The two boys just shook their head. "Aren't you ready to just relax for a while Hermione?" asked Harry. As if to emphasize his point he placed a pint of butterbeer in her right hand and pulled the books from her left. A moment of panic erupted as she wondered if Harry would sense the magic emanating from the disguised texts. But relief claimed her once more as he set them down without further interest. She turned instead to the beverage in her hand.

"Where'd you get this?" she asked with a furrowed brow, knowing that usually Fred and George were the ones to smuggle contraband into the dormitories.

"I have my ways," smiled Ron before a sudden sadness clouded his face. "He would have wanted this."

Hermione willed her tears to remain unshed, a show of strength for Ron's sake. She threaded her fingers through his free hand and squeezed. "To Fred," she said softly, raising her drink in the air.

"To Fred!" the boys chimed in unison, and then each took a long draw from their pints.

For the remainder of the evening Hermione lost herself in the simple companionship of her two best friends, forgetting that she had once again been thrown into crisis, forgetting the morbid contents of Snape's notebook and forgetting that she was now inextricably conspiring with fugitives. Tomorrow she would continue researching the odd ingredient. Tomorrow she would see if she had earned her professor's admiration by brewing the complex antidote correctly.

Tomorrow.

**A/N First I'd like to thank those who have sent in reviews. I really appreciate it. I know I haven't got to the action yet but I hope you will bear with me. You just can't throw these too together all willy-nilly. I'm already working on the next chapter so we'll see soon if the potion worked or not.**

**As always, please review. Nom, nom, nom.**


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